Chapter 7: No Place Left to Run

When the holidays came, Mason went out of town with Mr. Whitaker on a business trip.

The house felt lighter, the air easier to breathe. I slept with my door open for the first time in months.

Only then did I finally relax.

I spent my evenings curled up with a book, music playing softly in the background. For a little while, I let myself feel normal.

After half a month of tutoring, Mrs. Whitaker forgot to schedule the driver for me.

She was busy planning a charity gala, her calendar packed with meetings and fittings. I didn’t remind her—taking the bus felt like freedom.

I took the bus to class in the morning, and sometimes Carter would give me a ride home at night—his house wasn’t far from mine.

We’d talk about school, college applications, dreams for the future. Sometimes, we’d stop for milkshakes at the corner diner, just two kids trying to make sense of the world.

On the last day of tutoring, I sat on the back of Carter’s bike as usual. We were discussing a tough problem.

The wind whipped through my hair as we coasted down Maple Avenue, our voices blending with the hum of the city. I almost forgot about everything else.

Just around the corner from the Whitaker family’s gated community, Carter suddenly asked, “Is that your brother up ahead?”

His voice was cautious, a warning hidden in the question. I followed his gaze, my heart skipping a beat.

I paused and peeked over his shoulder.

There, under the streetlamp, stood Mason. He looked taller, older, his face shadowed and unreadable. I felt the old fear tighten in my chest.

Standing at the corner was Mason—I hadn’t seen him in a month!

He didn’t move, just watched us with that same blank expression. I wondered how long he’d been standing there, waiting.

His eyes flicked from me to Carter, then back again. There was no warmth in his gaze—just cold calculation.

Carter stopped the bike in front of him and nodded in greeting.

He tried to play it cool, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. He glanced at me, silently asking if I was okay.

Before I could say goodbye to Carter, Mason grabbed my arm and started pulling me inside.

His grip was tight, almost painful. I stumbled after him, barely managing to grab my backpack before it hit the ground.

Carter blocked him, worried.

He stepped between us, his voice steady but firm. “Hey, man, let her go.”

“What are you doing?”

Carter’s eyes flashed with concern. He stood his ground, refusing to back down.

“I’m taking my sister home. Why do you care?”

Mason’s voice was icy, every word laced with challenge. He pulled me closer, daring Carter to make a move.

I tried to pull away—his grip hurt.

“You’re hurting her.”

Carter’s voice was sharper now, protective. He glanced at my wrist, red where Mason’s fingers dug in.

“Hurting her? You care about my sister that much... are you two dating?”

Mason let go, lifted my reddened wrist to his lips and blew on it, then looked at Carter with a challenging stare.

The gesture was possessive, almost mocking. I yanked my hand away, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and fear.

Taking advantage of his loosened grip, I quickly pulled my hand back.

I stepped behind Carter, using him as a shield. Mason’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t try to grab me again.

“Mason, I’m not dating anyone! Carter just gave me a ride home because it was late, that’s all!”

I forced a laugh, hoping to defuse the tension. My voice was shaky, but I tried to sound convincing.

Even though I was scared of him, as my “big brother,” he couldn’t pull anything in public—at least not yet.

I knew the rules—so long as we were in public, he had to play nice. But I didn’t trust him, not for a second.

I told Carter not to worry and sent him on his way.

I gave him a reassuring nod, mouthing “I’m fine.” He hesitated, then rode off, glancing over his shoulder until he disappeared around the corner.

Now wasn’t the time to go head-to-head with Mason—I couldn’t let him feel threatened.

I kept my posture relaxed, my tone light. Any sign of rebellion would only make things worse.

After Carter left, I let Mason pull me into the little garden without a fuss.

The roses were in full bloom, their scent heavy in the humid summer air. Fireflies danced above the grass, oblivious to the storm brewing between us.

He suddenly turned around, and I bumped right into his chest.

I stumbled, my nose brushing against his shirt. He caught me before I could fall, his hands warm and steady on my shoulders.

For a moment, we stood frozen, the world narrowing to just the two of us. His heartbeat was loud in my ear, steady and strong.

“Emmy, why are you avoiding your brother?”

His voice was soft, almost pleading. But underneath, I could hear the warning—the promise that he wasn’t going to let me go so easily. The night air felt thick, and for a heartbeat, I wondered if I would ever truly be free.